The Life of Thomas Telford by Smiles (Civil Engineer with an Introductory History of Roads and Travelling in Great Britian)

The Life of Thomas Telford

Thomas Telford

The Life of Thomas Telford, Civil Engineer

The Life of Thomas Telford, Civil Engineer: With an Introductory History of Roads and Traveling in Great Britain

The Life of Thomas Telford, Civil Engineer: With an Introductory History of Roads and Travelling in Great Britain (Classic Reprint)

The life of Thomas Telford, civil engineer: With an introductory history of roads and travelling in Great Britain

Mrs. Bray says the crooks are called by the country people"Devil's tooth-picks." A correspondent informs us that the queerold crook-packs represented in our illustration are still in use inNorth Devon. He adds: "The pack-horses were so accustomed to theirposition when travelling in line (going in double file) and sojealous of their respective places, that if one got wrong and tookanother's place, the animal interfered with would strike at theoffender with his crooks."

*[2] The treatment the stranger received was often very rude.When William Hutton, of Birmingham, accompanied by another gentleman,went to view the field of Bosworth, in 1770, "the inhabitants,"he says, "set their dogs at us in the street, merely because we werestrangers. Human figures not their own are seldom seen in theseinhospitable regions. Surrounded with impassable roads, nointercourse with man to humanise the mind. nor commerce to smooththeir rugged manners, they continue the boors of Nature."In certain villages in Lancashire and Yorkshire, not very remote fromlarge towns, the appearance of a stranger, down to a comparativelyrecent period, excited a similar commotion amongst the villagers,and the word would pass from door to door, "Dost knaw'im?" "Naya.""Is 'e straunger?" "Ey, for sewer." "Then paus' 'im-- 'Eave a duck[stone] at 'im-- Fettle 'im!" And the "straunger" would straightwayfind the "ducks" flying about his head, and be glad to make hisescape from the village with his life.

*[3] Scatcherd, 'History of Morley.'

*[4] Murray's ' Handbook of Surrey, Hants, and Isle of Wight,' 168.

*[5] Whitaker's 'History of Craven.'

*[6] Scatcherd's 'History of Morley,' 226.

*[7] Vixen Tor is the name of this singular-looking rock. But itis proper to add, that its appearance is probably accidental, thehead of the Sphynx being produced by the three angular blocks ofrock seen in profile. Mr. Borlase, however, in his ' Antiquitiesof Cornwall,' expresses the opinion that the rock-basins on thesummit of the rock were used by the Druids for purposes connectedwith their religious ceremonies.

*[8] The provisioning of London, now grown so populous, would bealmost impossible but for the perfect system of roads nowconverging on it from all parts. In early times, London, likecountry places, had to lay in its stock of salt-provisions againstwinter, drawing its supplies of vegetables from the country withineasy reach of the capital. Hence the London market-gardenerspetitioned against the extension of tumpike-roads about a centuryago, as they afterwards petitioned against the extension ofrailways, fearing lest their trade should be destroyed by thecompetition of country-grown cabbages. But the extension of theroads had become a matter of absolute necessity, in order to feedthe huge and ever-increasing mouth of the Great Metropolis, thepopulation of which has grown in about two centuries from fourhundred thousand to three millions. This enormous population has,perhaps, never at any time more than a fortnight's supply of foodin stock, and most families not more than a few days; yet no oneever entertains the slightest apprehension of a failure in thesupply, or even of a variation in the price from day to day inconsequence of any possible shortcoming. That this should be so,would be one of the most surprising things in the history of modernLondon, but that it is sufficiently accounted for by themagnificent system of roads, canals, and railways, which connect itwith the remotest corners of the kingdom. Modern London is mainlyfed by steam. The Express Meat-Train, which runs nightly fromAberdeen to London, drawn by two engines and makes the journey intwenty-four hours, is but a single illustration of the rapid andcertain method by which modem London is fed. The north Highlandsof Scotland have thus, by means of railways, become grazing-groundsfor the metropolis. Express fish trains from Dunbar and Eyemouth(Smeaton's harbours), augmented by fish-trucks from Cullercoats andTynemouth on the Northumberland coast, and from Redcar, Whitby, andScarborough on the Yorkshire coast, also arrive in London everymorning. And what with steam-vessels bearing cattle, and meat andfish arriving by sea, and canal-boats laden with potatoes frominland, and railway-vans laden with butter and milk drawn from awide circuit of country, and road-vans piled high with vegetableswithin easy drive of Covent Garden, the Great Mouth is thus fromday to day regularly, satisfactorily, and expeditiously filled.

*[9] The white witches are kindly disposed, the black cast the"evil eye," and the grey are consulted for the discovery of theft,&c.

*[10] See 'The Devonshire Lane', above quoted

*[11] Willow saplings, crooked and dried in the required form.

CHAPTER IV.

ROADS AND TRAVELLING IN SCOTLAND IN THE LAST CENTURY.

The internal communications of Scotland, which Telford did so muchin the course of his life to improve, were, if possible, even worsethan those of England about the middle of last century. The landwas more sterile, and the people were much poorer. Indeed, nothingcould be more dreary than the aspect which Scotland then presented.Her fields lay untilled, her mines unexplored, and her fisheriesuncultivated. The Scotch towns were for the most part collectionsof thatched mud cottages, giving scant shelter to a miserablepopulation. The whole country was desponding, gaunt, and haggard,like Ireland in its worst times. The common people were badly fedand wretchedly clothed, those in the country for the most partliving in huts with their cattle. Lord Kaimes said of the Scotchtenantry of the early part of last century, that they were sobenumbed by oppression and poverty that the most able instructorsin husbandry could have made nothing of them. A writer in the'Farmer's Magazine' sums up his account of Scotland at that time inthese words:--"Except in a few instances, it was little better thana barren waste."*[1]

The modern traveller through the Lothians--which now exhibitperhaps the finest agriculture in the world--will scarcely believethat less than a century ago these counties were mostly in thestate in which Nature had left them. In the interior there waslittle to be seen but bleak moors and quaking bogs. The chief partof each farm consisted of "out-field," or unenclosed land, nobetter than moorland, from which the hardy black cattle couldscarcely gather herbage enough in winter to keep them fromstarving. The "in-field" was an enclosed patch of illcultivatedground, on which oats and "bear," or barley, were grown; but theprincipal crop was weeds.

Of the small quantity of corn raised in the country, nine-tenthswere grown within five miles of the coast; and of wheat very littlewas raised--not a blade north of the Lothians. When the first cropof that grain was tried on a field near Edinburgh, about the middleof last century, people flocked to it as a wonder. Clover,turnips, and potatoes had not yet been introduced, and no cattlewere fattened: it was with difficulty they could be kept alive.

All loads were as yet carried on horseback; but when the farm wastoo small, or the crofter too poor to keep a horse, his own or hiswife's back bore the load. The horse brought peats from the bog,carried the oats or barley to market, and bore the manure a-field.But the uses of manure were as yet so little understood that, if astream were near, it was usually thrown in and floated away, and insummer it was burnt.

What will scarcely be credited, now that the industry of Scotlandhas become educated by a century's discipline of work, was theinconceivable listlessness and idleness of the people. They leftthe bog unreclaimed, and the swamp undrained. They would not be atthe trouble to enclose lands easily capable of cultivation.There was, perhaps, but little inducement on the part of theagricultural class to be industrious; for they were too liable tobe robbed by those who preferred to be idle. Andrew Fletcher,of Saltoun--commonly known as "The Patriot," because he was sostrongly opposed to the union of Scotland with England*[2]--published a pamphlet, in 1698, strikingly illustrative of thelawless and uncivilized state of the country at that time.After giving a dreadful picture of the then state of Scotland:two hundred thousand vagabonds begging from door to door and robbingand plundering the poor people,-- "in years of plenty manythousands of them meeting together in the mountains, where theyfeast and riot for many days; and at country weddings, markets,burials, and other like public occasions, they are to be seen, bothmen and women, perpetually drunk, cursing, blaspheming, andfighting together,"--he proceeded to urge that every man of acertain estate should be obliged to take a proportionate number ofthese vagabonds and compel them to work for him; and further,that such serfs, with their wives and children, should be incapableof alienating their service from their master or owner until he hadbeen reimbursed for the money he had expended on them: in otherwords, their owner was to have the power of selling them."The Patriot" was, however, aware that "great address, diligence,and severity" were required to carry out his scheme; "for," said he,"that sort of people are so desperately wicked, such enemies of allwork and labour, and, which is yet more amazing, so proud inesteeming their own condition above that which they will be sure tocall Slavery, that unless prevented by the utmost industry anddiligence, upon the first publication of any orders necessary forputting in execution such a design, they will rather die withhunger in caves and dens, and murder their young children, thanappear abroad to have them and themselves taken into suchservice."*[3]

Although the recommendations of Andrew Fletcher of Saltoun wereembodied in no Act of Parliament, the magistrates of some of thelarger towns did not hesitate to kidnap and sell into slavery ladsand men found lurking in the streets, which they continued to dodown to a comparatively recent period. This, however, was not sosurprising as that at the time of which we are speaking, and,indeed, until the end of last century, there was a veritable slaveclass in Scotland--the class of colliers and salters--who werebought and sold with the estates to which they belonged, as formingpart of the stook. When they ran away, they were advertised foras negroes were in the American States until within the last fewyears. It is curious, in turning over an old volume of the 'ScotsMagazine,' to find a General Assembly's petition to Parliament forthe abolition of slavery in America almost alongside the report ofa trial of some colliers who had absconded from a mine nearStirling to which they belonged. But the degraded condition of thehome slaves then excited comparatively little interest. Indeed, itwas not until the very last year of the last century that praedialslavery was abolished in Scotland--only three short reigns ago,almost within the memory of men still living.*[4] The greatestresistance was offered to the introduction of improvements inagriculture, though it was only at rare intervals that these wereattempted. There was no class possessed of enterprise or wealth.An idea of the general poverty of the country may be inferred fromthe fact that about the middle of last century the whole circulatingmedium of the two Edinburgh banks--the only institutions of thekind then in Scotland--amounted to only 200,000L., which wassufficient for the purposes of trade, commerce, and industry.Money was then so scarce that Adam Smith says it was not uncommonfor workmen, in certain parts of Scotland, to carry nails insteadof pence to the baker's or the alehouse. A middle class couldscarcely as yet be said to exist, or any condition between thestarving cottiers and the impoverished proprietors, whose availablemeans were principally expended in hard drinking.*[5]

The latter were, for the most part, too proud and too ignorant tointerest themselves in the improvement of their estates; and the fewwho did so had very little encouragement to persevere. Miss Craig,in describing the efforts made by her father, William Craig,laird of Arbigland, in Kirkcudbright, says, "The indolent obstinacyof the lower class of the people was found to be almostunconquerable. Amongst other instances of their laziness, I haveheard him say that, upon the introduction of the mode of dressingthe grain at night which had been thrashed during the day, all theservants in the neighbourhood refused to adopt the measure, andeven threatened to destroy the houses of their employers by fire ifthey continued to insist upon the business. My father speedilyperceived that a forcible remedy was required for the evil.He gave his servants the choice of removing the thrashed grain inthe evening, or becoming inhabitants of Kirkcudbright gaol: theypreferred the former alternative, and open murmurings were nolonger heard."*[6]

The wages paid to the labouring classes were then very low. Evenin East Lothian, which was probably in advance of the other Scotchcounties, the ordinary day's wage of a labouring man was only fivepence in winter and six pence in summer. Their food was whollyvegetable, and was insufficient in quantity as well as bad inquality. The little butcher's meat consumed by the better classwas salted beef and mutton, stored up in Ladner time (betweenMichaelmas and Martinmas) for the year's consumption. Mr. BuchanHepburn says the Sheriff of East Lothian informed him that heremembered when not a bullock was slaughtered in Haddington marketfor a whole year, except at that time; and, when Sir David Kinloch,of Gilmerton sold ten wedders to an Edinburgh butcher, hestipulated for three several terms to take them away, to preventthe Edinburgh market from being overstocked with fresh butcher'smeat!*[7]

The rest of Scotland was in no better state: in some parts it waseven worse. The rich and fertile county of Ayr, which now gloriesin the name of "the garden of Scotland," was for the most part awild and dreary waste, with here and there a poor, miserable,comfortless hut, where the farmer and his family lodged. Therewere no enclosures of land, except one or two about a proprietor'sresidence; and black cattle roamed at large over the face of thecountry. When an attempt was made to enclose the lands for thepurposes of agriculture, the fences were levelled by thedispossessed squatters. Famines were frequent among the poorerclasses; the western counties not producing food enough for thesustenance of the inhabitants, few though they were in number.This was also the case in Dumfries, where the chief part of the grainrequired for the population was brought in "tumbling-cars" from thesandbeds of Esk; "and when the waters were high by reason of spates[or floods], and there being no bridges, so that the cars could notcome with the meal, the tradesmen's wives might be seen in thestreets of Dumfries, crying; because there was no food to behad."*[8]

The misery of the country was enormously aggravated by the wretchedstate of the roads. There were, indeed, scarcely any made roadsthroughout the country. Hence the communication between one townand another was always difficult, especially in winter. There wereonly rough tracks across moors, and when one track became toodeep, another alongside of it was chosen, and was in its turnabandoned, until the whole became equally impassable. In wetweather these tracks became "mere sloughs, in which the carts orcarriages had to slumper through in a half-swimming state, whilst,in times of drought it was a continual jolting out of one hole intoanother."*[9]

Such being the state of the highways, it will be obvious that verylittle communication could exist between one part of the countryand another. Single-horse traffickers, called cadgers, pliedbetween the country towns and the villages, supplying theinhabitants with salt, fish, earthenware, and articles of clothing,which they carried in sacks or creels hung across their horses'backs. Even the trade between Edinburgh and Glasgow was carried onin the same primitive way, the principal route being along the highgrounds west of Boroughstoness, near which the remains of the oldpack-horse road are still to be seen.

It was long before vehicles of any sort could be used on the Scotchroads. Rude sledges and tumbling-cars were employed near towns,and afterwards carts, the wheels of which were first made ofboards. It was long before travelling by coach could be introducedin Scotland. When Smollett travelled from Glasgow to Edinburgh onhis way to London, in 1739, there was neither coach, cart, norwaggon on the road. He accordingly accompanied the pack-horsecarriers as far as Newcastle, "sitting upon a pack-saddle betweentwo baskets, one of which," he says, "contained my goods in aknapsack."

In 1743 an attempt was made by the Town Council of Glasgow to setup a stage-coach or "lando." It was to be drawn by six horses,carry six passengers, and run between Glasgow and Edinburgh, adistance of forty-four miles, once a week in winter, and twice aweek in summer. The project, however, seems to have been thoughttoo bold for the time, for the "lando" was never started. It wasnot until the year 1749 that the first public conveyance, called"The Glasgow and Edinburgh Caravan," was started between the twocities, and it made the journey between the one place and the otherin two days. Ten years later another vehicle was started, named"The Fly" because of its unusual speed, and it contrived to makethe journey in rather less than a day and a half.

About the same time, a coach with four horses was started betweenHaddington and Edinburgh, and it took a full winter's day toperform the journey of sixteen miles: the effort being to reachMusselburgh in time for dinner, and go into town in the evening.As late as 1763 there was as only one stage-coach in all Scotlandin communication with London, and that set out from Edinburgh onlyonce a month. The journey to London occupied from ten to fifteendays, according to the state of the weather; and those whoundertook so dangerous a journey usually took the precaution ofmaking their wills before starting.

When carriers' carts were established, the time occupied by them onthe road will now appear almost incredible. Thus the commoncarrier between Selkirk and Edinburgh, a distance of onlythirty-eight miles, took about a fortnight to perform the doublejourney. Part of the road lay along Gala Water, and in summer time,when the river-bed was dry, the carrier used it as a road. Thetownsmen of this adventurous individual, on the morning of hisway-going, were accustomed to turn out and take leave of him,wishing him a safe return from his perilous journey. In winter theroute was simply impracticable, and the communication was suspendeduntil the return of dry weather.

While such was the state of the communications in the immediateneighbourhood of the metropolis of Scotland, matters were, ifpossible, still worse in the remoter parts of the country. Down tothe middle of last century, there were no made roads of any kind inthe south-western counties. The only inland trade was in blackcattle; the tracks were impracticable for vehicles, of which therewere only a few--carts and tumbling-cars--employed in the immediateneighbourhood of the towns. When the Marquis of Downshireattempted to make a journey through Galloway in his coach, aboutthe year 1760, a party of labourers with tools attended him, tolift the vehicle out of the ruts and put on the wheels when it gotdismounted. Even with this assistance, however, his Lordshipoccasionally stuck fast, and when within about three miles of thevillage of Creetown, near Wigton, he was obliged to send away theattendants, and pass the night in his coach on the Corse of Slakeswith his family.

Matters were, of course, still worse in the Highlands, where therugged character of the country offered formidable difficulties tothe formation of practicable roads, and where none existed savethose made through the rebel districts by General Wade shortlyafter the rebellion of 1715. The people were also more lawlessand, if possible, more idle, than those of the Lowland districtsabout the same period. The latter regarded their northernneighbours as the settlers in America did the Red Indians roundtheir borders--like so many savages always ready to burst in uponthem, fire their buildings, and carry off their cattle.*[10]

Very little corn was grown in the neighbourhood of the Highlands,on account of its being liable to be reaped and carried off by thecaterans, and that before it was ripe. The only method by whichsecurity of a certain sort could be obtained was by the payment ofblackmail to some of the principal chiefs, though this was notsufficient to protect them against the lesser marauders. Regularcontracts were drawn up between proprietors in the counties ofPerth, Stirling, and Dumbarton, and the Macgregors, in which it wasstipulated that if less than seven cattle were stolen--whichpeccadillo was known as picking--no redress should be required; butif the number stolen exceeded seven--such amount of theft beingraised to the dignity of lifting--then the Macgregors were bound torecover. This blackmail was regularly levied as far south asCampsie--then within six miles of Glasgow, but now almost formingpart of it--down to within a few months of the outbreak of theRebellion of 1745.*[11]

Under such circumstances, agricultural improvement was altogetherimpossible. The most fertile tracts were allowed to lie waste, formen would not plough or sow where they had not the certain prospectof gathering in the crop. Another serious evil was, that thelawless habits of their neighbours tended to make the Lowlandborderers almost as ferocious as the Higlanders themselves. Feudswere of constant occurrence between neighbouring baronies, and evencontiguous parishes; and the country fairs, which were tacitlyrecognised as the occasions for settling quarrels, were the scenesof as bloody faction fights as were ever known in Ireland even inits worst days. When such was the state of Scotland only a centuryago, what may we not hope for from Ireland when the civilizinginfluences of roads, schools, and industry have made more generalprogress amongst her people?

Yet Scotland had not always been in this miserable condition. Thereis good reason to believe that as early as the thirteenth century,agriculture was in a much more advanced state than we find it tohave been the eighteenth. It would appear from the extantchartularies of monastic establishments, which then existed allover the Lowlands, that a considerable portion of their revenue wasderived from wheat, which also formed no inconsiderable part oftheir living. The remarkable fact is mentioned by Walter deHemingford, the English historian, that when the castle ofDirleton, in East Lothian, was besieged by the army of Edward I.,in the beginning of July, 1298, the men, being reduced to greatextremities for provisions, were fain to subsist on the pease andbeans which they gathered in the fields.*[12] This statement is allthe more remarkable on two accounts: first, that pease and beansshould then have been so plentiful as to afford anything likesustenance for an army; and second, that they should have been fitfor use so early in the season, even allowing for the differencebetween the old and new styles in the reckoning of time.The magnificent old abbeys and churches of Scotland in early timesalso indicate that at some remote period a degree of civilizationand prosperity prevailed, from which the country had graduallyfallen. The ruins of the ancient edifices of Melrose, Kilwinning,Aberborthwick, Elgin, and other religious establishments, show thatarchitecture must then have made great progress in the North,and lead us to the conclusion that the other arts had reached a likestage of advancement. This is borne out by the fact of the numberof well-designed and well-built bridges of olden times which stillexist in different parts of Scotland. "And when we consider," saysProfessor Innes, "the long and united efforts required in the earlystate of the arts for throwing a bridge over any considerableriver, the early occurrence of bridges may well be admitted as oneof the best tests of civilization and national prosperity."*[13]As in England, so in Scotland, the reclamation of lands, theimprovement of agriculture, and the building of bridges were mainlydue to the skill and industry of the old churchmen. When theirecclesiastical organization was destroyed, the country speedilyrelapsed into the state from which they had raised it; and Scotlandcontinued to lie in ruins almost till our own day, when it hasagain been rescued from barrenness, more effectually even thanbefore, by the combined influences of roads, education, and industry.

Footnotes for Chapter IV.

*[1] 'Farmer's Magazine,' 1803. No. xiii. p. 101.

*[2] Bad although the condition of Scotland was at the beginning oflast century, there were many who believed that it would be madeworse by the carrying of the Act of Union. The Earl of Wigton wasone of these. Possessing large estates in the county of Stirling,and desirous of taking every precaution against what he supposed tobe impending ruin, he made over to his tenants, on condition thatthey continued to pay him their then low rents, his extensiveestates in the parishes of Denny, Kirkintulloch, and Cumbernauld,retaining only a few fields round the family mansion ['Farmer'sMagazine,' 1808, No. xxxiv. p. 193]. Fletcher of Saltoun alsofeared the ruinous results of the Union, though he was lessprecipitate in his conduct than the Earl of Wigton. We needscarcely say how entirely such apprehensions were falsified by theactual results.

*[3] 'Fletcher's Political Works,' London, 1737, p. 149. As thepopulation of Scotland was then only about 1,200,000, the beggarsof the country, according to the above account, must haveconstituted about one-sixth of the whole community.

*[4] Act 39th George III. c. 56. See 'Lord Cockburn'sMemorials,' pp. 76-9. As not many persons may be aware how recenthas been the abolition of slavery in Britain, the author of thisbook may mention the fact that he personally knew a man who hadbeen "born a slave in Scotland," to use his own words, and lived totell it. He had resisted being transferred to another owner on thesale of the estate to which he was "bound," and refused to "go below,"on which he was imprisoned in Edinburgh gaol, where he lay for aconsiderable time. The case excited much interest, and probablyhad some effect in leading to the alteration in the law relatingto colliers and salters which shortly after followed.

*[5] See 'Autobiography of Dr. Alexander Carlyle,' passim.

*[6] 'Farmer's Magazine.' June. 1811. No. xlvi. p. 155.

*[7] See Buchan Hepburn's 'General View of the Agriculture andEconomy of East Lothian,' 1794, p. 55.

*[8]Letter of John Maxwell, in Appendix to Macdiarmid's 'Picture ofDumfries,' 1823

*[9] Robertson's 'Rural Recollections,' p. 38.

*[10] Very little was known of the geography of the Highlands downto the beginning of the seventeenth century The principalinformation on the subject being derived from Danish materials.It appears, however, that in 1608, one Timothy Pont, a young manwithout fortune or patronage, formed the singular resolution oftravelling over the whole of Scotland, with the sole view ofinforming himself as to the geography of the country, and hepersevered to the end of his task through every kind of difficulty;exploring 'all the islands with the zeal of a missionary, thoughoften pillaged and stript of everything; by the then barbarousinhabitant's. The enterprising youth received no recognition norreward for his exertions, and he died in obscurity, leaving hismaps and papers to his heirs. Fortunately, James I. heard of theexistence of Pont's papers, and purchased them for public use. Theylay, however, unused for a long time in the offices of the ScotchCourt of Chancery, until they were at length brought to light byMr. Robert Gordon, of Straloch, who made them the basis of thefirst map of Scotland having any pretensions to accuracy that wasever published.

*[11] Mr. Grant, of Corrymorry, used to relate that his father,when speaking of the Rebellion of 1745, always insisted that arising in the Highlands was absolutely necessary to give employmentto the numerous bands of lawless and idle young men who infestedevery property.--Anderson's 'Highlands and Islands of Scotland,'p. 432.

*[12] 'Lord Hailes Annals,' i., 379.

*[13] Professor Innes's 'Sketches of Early Scottish History.' Theprincipal ancient bridges in Scotland were those over the Tay atPerth (erected in the thirteenth century) over the Esk at Brechinand Marykirk; over the Bee at Kincardine, O'Neil, and Aberdeen;over the Don, near the same city; over the Spey at Orkhill; overthe Clyde at Glasgow; over the Forth at Stirling; and over the Tyneat Haddington.

CHAPTER V.

ROADS AND TRAVELLING IN ENGLAND TOWARDS THE END OF LAST CENTURY.

The progress made in the improvement of the roads throughoutEngland was exceedingly slow. Though some of the main throughfareswere mended so as to admit of stage-coach travelling at the rate offrom four to six miles an hour, the less frequented roads continuedto be all but impassable. Travelling was still difficult, tedious,and dangerous. Only those who could not well avoid it ever thoughtof undertaking a journey, and travelling for pleasure was out ofthe question. A writer in the 'Gentleman's Magazine' in 1752 saysthat a Londoner at that time would no more think of travelling intothe west of England for pleasure than of going to Nubia.

But signs of progress were not awanting. In 1749 Birminghamstarted a stage-coach, which made the journey to London in threedays.*[1] In 1754 some enterprising Manchester men advertised a"flying coach" for the conveyance of passengers between that townand the metropolis; and, lest they should be classed withprojectors of the Munchausen kind, they heralded their enterprisewith this statement: "However incredible it may appear, this coachwill actually (barring accidents) arrive in London in four days anda half after leaving Manchester!"

Fast coaches were also established on several of the northernroads, though not with very extraordinary results as to speed.When John Scott, afterwards Lord Chancellor Eldon, travelled fromNewcastle to Oxford in 1766, he mentions that he journeyed in whatwas denominated "a fly," because of its rapid travelling; yet hewas three or four days and nights on the road. There was no suchvelocity, however, as to endanger overturning or other mischief.On the panels of the coach were painted the appropriate motto ofSat cito si sat bene--quick enough if well enough--a motto whichthe future Lord Chancellor made his own.*[2]

The journey by coach between London and Edinburgh still occupiedsix days or more, according to the state of the weather. BetweenBath or Birmingham and London occupied between two and three daysas late as 1763. The road across Hounslow Heath was so bad, thatit was stated before a Parliamentary Committee that it wasfrequently known to be two feet deep in mud. The rate oftravelling was about six and a half miles an hour; but the work wasso heavy that it "tore the horses' hearts out," as the commonsaying went, so that they only lasted two or three years.

When the Bath road became improved, Burke was enabled, in thesummer of 1774, to travel from London to Bristol, to meet theelectors there, in little more than four and twenty hours; but hisbiographer takes care to relate that he "travelled with incrediblespeed." Glasgow was still ten days' distance from the metropolis,and the arrival of the mail there was so important an event that agun was fired to announce its coming in. Sheffield set up a"flying machine on steel springs" to London in 1760: it "slept" thefirst night at the Black Man's Head Inn, Nottingham; the second atthe Angel, Northampton; and arrived at the Swan with Two Necks,Lad-lane, on the evening of the third day. The fare was 1L. l7s.,and 14 lbs. of luggage was allowed. But the principal part of theexpense of travelling was for living and lodging on the road, notto mention the fees to guards and drivers.

Though the Dover road was still one of the best in the kingdom, theDover flying-machine, carrying only four passengers, took a longsummer's day to perform the journey. It set out from Dover at fouro'clock in the morning, breakfasted at the Red Lion, Canterbury,and the passengers ate their way up to town at various inns on theroad, arriving in London in time for supper. Smollett complainedof the innkeepers along that route as the greatest set ofextortioners in England. The deliberate style in which journeyswere performed may be inferred from the circumstance that on oneoccasion, when a quarrel took place between the guard and apassenger, the coach stopped to see them fight it out on the road.

Foreigners who visited England were peculiarly observant of thedefective modes of conveyance then in use. Thus, one Don ManoelGonzales, a Portuguese merchant, who travelled through GreatBritain, in 1740, speaking of Yarmouth, says, "They have a comicalway of carrying people all over the town and from the seaside, forsix pence. They call it their coach, but it is only a wheel-barrow,drawn by one horse, without any covering." Another foreigner, HerrAlberti, a Hanoverian professor of theology, when on a visit toOxford in 1750, desiring to proceed to Cambridge, found there wasno means of doing so without returning to London and there takingcoach for Cambridge. There was not even the convenience of acarrier's waggon between the two universities. But the mostamusing account of an actual journey by stage-coach that we knowof, is that given by a Prussian clergyman, Charles H. Moritz, whothus describes his adventures on the road between Leicester andLondon in 1782:--

"Being obliged," he says, "to bestir myself to get back to London, as the time drew near when the Hamburgh captain with whom I intended to return had fixed his departure, I determined to take a place as far as Northampton on the outside. But this ride from Leicester to Northampton I shall remember as long as I live.

"The coach drove from the yard through a part of the house. The inside passengers got in from the yard, but we on the outside were obliged to clamber up in the street, because we should have had no room for our heads to pass under the gateway. My companions on the top of the coach were a farmer, a young man very decently dressed, and a black-a-moor. The getting up alone was at the risk of one's life, and when I was up I was obliged to sit just at the corner of the coach, with nothing to hold by but a sort of little handle fastened on the side. I sat nearest the wheel, and the moment that we set off I fancied that I saw certain death before me. All I could do was to take still tighter hold of the handle, and to be strictly careful to preserve my balance. The machine rolled along with prodigious rapidity over the stones through the town, and every moment we seemed to fly into the air, so much so that it appeared to me a complete miracle that we stuck to the coach at all. But we were completely on the wing as often as we passed through a village or went down a hill.

"This continual fear of death at last became insupportable to me, and, therefore, no sooner were we crawling up a rather steep hill, and consequently proceeding slower than usual, then I carefully crept from the top of the coach, and was lucky enough to get myself snugly ensconced in the basket behind. "'O,Sir, you will be shaken to death!' said the black-a-moor; but I heeded him not, trusting that he was exaggerating the unpleasantness of my new situation. And truly, as long as we went on slowly up the hill it was easy and pleasant enough; and I was just on the point of falling asleep among the surrounding trunks and packages, having had no rest the night before, when on a sudden the coach proceeded at a rapid rate down the hill. Then all the boxes, iron-nailed and copper-fastened, began, as it were, to dance around me; everything in the basket appeared to be alive, and every moment I received such violent blows that I thought my last hour had come. The black-a-moor had been right, I now saw clearly; but repentance was useless, and I was obliged to suffer horrible torture for nearly an hour, which seemed to me an eternity. At last we came to another hill, when, quite shaken to pieces, bleeding, and sore, I ruefully crept back to the top of the coach to my former seat. 'Ah, did I not tell you that you would be shaken to death?' inquired the black man, when I was creeping along on my stomach. But I gave him no reply. Indeed, I was ashamed; and I now write this as a warning to all strangers who are inclined to ride in English stage-coaches, and take an outside at, or, worse still, horror of horrors, a seat in the basket.

"From Harborough to Northampton I had a most dreadful journey. It rained incessantly, and as before we had been covered with dust, so now we were soaked with rain. My neighbour, the young man who sat next me in the middle, every now and then fell asleep; and when in this state he perpetually bolted and rolled against me, with the whole weight of his body, more than once nearly pushing me from my seat, to which I clung with the last strength of despair. My forces were nearly giving way, when at last, happily, we reached Northampton, on the evening of the 14th July, 1782, an ever-memorable day to me.

"On the next morning, I took an inside place for London. We started early in the morning. The journey from Northampton to the metropolis, however, I can scarcely call a ride, for it was a perpetual motion, or endless jolt from one place to another, in a close wooden box, over what appeared to be a heap of unhewn stones and trunks of trees scattered by a hurricane. To make my happiness complete, I had three travelling companions, all farmers, who slept so soundly that even the hearty knocks with which they hammered their heads against each other and against mine did not awake them. Their faces, bloated and discoloured by ale and brandy and the knocks aforesaid, looked, as they lay before me, like so many lumps of dead flesh.

"I looked, and certainly felt, like a crazy fool when we arrived at London in the afternoon."*[3]

[Image] The Basket Coach, 1780.

Arthur Young, in his books, inveighs strongly against the execrablestate of the roads in all parts of England towards the end of lastcentury. In Essex he found the ruts "of an incredible depth,"and he almost swore at one near Tilbury. "Of all the cursed roads,"he says, "that ever disgraced this kingdom in the very ages ofbarbarism, none ever equalled that from Billericay to the King'sHead at Tilbury. It is for near twelve miles so narrow that amouse cannot pass by any carriage. I saw a fellow creep under hiswaggon to assist me to lift, if possible, my chaise over a hedge.To add to all the infamous circumstances which concur to plague atraveller, I must not forget the eternally meeting with chalkwaggons, themselves frequently stuck fast, till a collection ofthem are in the same situation, and twenty or thirty horses may betacked to each to draw them out one by one!"*[4] Yet will it bebelieved, the proposal to form a turnpike-road from Chelmsford toTilbury was resisted "by the Bruins of the country, whose horseswere worried to death with bringing chalk through those vileroads!"

Arthur Young did not find the turnpike any better between Bury andSudbury, in Suffolk: "I was forced to move as slow in it," he says,"as in any unmended lane in Wales. For, ponds of liquid dirt, anda scattering of loose flints just sufficient to lame every horsethat moves near them, with the addition of cutting vile gripsacross the road under the pretence of letting the water off, butwithout effect, altogether render at least twelve out of thesesixteen miles as infamous a turnpike as ever was beheld." BetweenTetsworth and Oxford he found the so-called turnpike abounding inloose stones as large as one's head, full of holes, deep ruts, andwithal so narrow that with great difficulty he got his chaise outof the way of the Witney waggons. "Barbarous" and "execrable" arethe words which he constantly employs in speaking of the roads;parish and turnpike, all seemed to be alike bad. From Gloucesterto Newnham, a distance of twelve miles, he found a "cursed road,""infamously stony," with "ruts all the way." From Newnham toChepstow he noted another bad feature in the roads, and that wasthe perpetual hills; "for," he says, "you will form a clear idea ofthem if you suppose the country to represent the roofs of housesjoined, and the road to run across them." It was at one time evenmatter of grave dispute whether it would not cost as little moneyto make that between Leominster and Kington navigable as to makeit hard. Passing still further west, the unfortunate traveller,who seems scarcely able to find words to express his sufferings,continues:--

"But, my dear Sir, what am I to say of the roads in this country! the turnpikes! as they have the assurance to call them and the hardiness to make one pay for? From Chepstow to the half-way house between Newport and Cardiff they continue mere rocky lanes, full of hugeous stones as big as one's horse, and abominable holes. The first six miles from Newport they were so detestable, and without either direction-posts or milestones, that I could not well persuade myself I was on the turnpike, but had mistook the road, and therefore asked every one I met, who answered me, to my astonishment, 'Ya-as!' Whatever business carries you into this country, avoid it, at least till they have good roads: if they were good, travelling would be very pleasant."*[5]

At a subsequent period Arthur Young visited the northern counties;but his account of the roads in that quarter is not moresatisfactory. Between Richmond and Darlington he found them like to"dislocate his bones," being broken in many places into deep holes,and almost impassable; "yet," says he, "the people will drink tea!"--a decoction against the use of which the traveller is foundconstantly declaiming. The roads in Lancashire made him almostfrantic, and he gasped for words to express his rage. Of the roadbetween Proud Preston and Wigan he says: "I know not in the wholerange of language terms sufficiently expressive to describe thisinfernal road. Let me most seriously caution all travellers whomay accidentally propose to travel this terrible country, to avoidit as they would the devil; for a thousand to one they break theirnecks or their limbs by overthrows or breakings-down.

They will here meet with ruts, which I actually measured, four feetdeep, and floating with mud only from a wet summer. What,therefore, must it be after a winter? The only mending it receivesis tumbling in some loose stones, which serve no other purpose thanjolting a carriage in the most intolerable manner. These are notmerely opinions, but facts; for I actually passed three cartsbroken down in those eighteen miles of execrable memory."*[6]

It would even appear that the bad state of the roads in the Midlandcounties, about the same time, had nearly caused the death of theheir to the throne. On the 2nd of September, 1789, the Prince ofWales left Wentworth Hall, where he had been on a visit to EarlFitzwilliam, and took the road for London in his carriage. Whenabout two miles from Newark the Prince's coach was overturned by acart in a narrow part of the road; it rolled down a slope, turningover three times, and landed at the bottom, shivered to pieces.Fortunately the Prince escaped with only a few bruises and asprain; but the incident had no effect in stirring up the localauthorities to make any improvement in the road, which remained inthe same wretched state until a comparatively recent period.

When Palmer's new mail-coaches were introduced, an attempt was madeto diminish the jolting of the passengers by having the carriageshung upon new patent springs, but with very indifferent results.Mathew Boulton, the engineer, thus described their effect uponhimself in a journey he made in one of them from London intoDevonshire, in 1787:--

"I had the most disagreeable journey I ever experienced the night after I left you, owing to the new improved patent coach, a vehicle loaded with iron trappings and the greatest complication of unmechanical contrivances jumbled together, that I have ever witnessed. The coach swings sideways, with a sickly sway without any vertical spring; the point of suspense bearing upon an arch called a spring, though it is nothing of the sort, The severity of the jolting occasioned me such disorder, that I was obliged to stop at Axminster and go to bed very ill. However, I was able next day to proceed in a post-chaise. The landlady in the London Inn, at Exeter, assured me that the passengers who arrived every night were in general so ill that they were obliged to go supperless to bed; and, unless they go back to the old-fashioned coach, hung a little lower, the mail-coaches will lose all their custom."*[7]

We may briefly refer to the several stages of improvement --ifimprovement it could be called--in the most frequented highways ofthe kingdom, and to the action of the legislature with reference tothe extension of turnpikes. The trade and industry of the countryhad been steadily improving; but the greatest obstacle to theirfurther progress was always felt to be the disgraceful state of theroads. As long ago as the year 1663 an Act was passed*[8]authorising the first toll-gates or turnpikes to be erected, atwhich collectors were stationed to levy small sums from those usingthe road, for the purpose of defraying the needful expenses oftheir maintenance. This Act, however, only applied to a portion ofthe Great North Road between London and York, and it authorised thenew toll-bars to be erected at Wade's Mill in Hertfordshire, atCaxton in Cambridgeshire, and at Stilton in Huntingdonshire.*[9]The Act was not followed by any others for a quarter of a century,and even after that lapse of time such Acts as were passed of asimilar character were very few and far between.

For nearly a century more, travellers from Edinburgh to London metwith no turnpikes until within about 110 miles of the metropolis.North of that point there was only a narrow causeway fit forpack-horses, flanked with clay sloughs on either side. It is,however, stated that the Duke of Cumberland and the Earl ofAlbemarle, when on their way to Scotland in pursuit of the rebelsin 1746, did contrive to reach Durham in a coach and six; but therethe roads were found so wretched, that they were under thenecessity of taking to horse, and Mr. George Bowes, the countymember, made His Royal Highness a present of his nag to enable himto proceed on his journey. The roads west of Newcastle were so bad,that in the previous year the royal forces under General Wade,which left Newcastle for Carlisle to intercept the Pretender andhis army, halted the first night at Ovingham, and the second atHexham, being able to travel only twenty miles in two days.*[10]

The rebellion of 1745 gave a great impulse to the construction ofroads for military as well as civil purposes. The nimbleHighlanders, without baggage or waggons, had been able to cross theborder and penetrate almost to the centre of England before anydefinite knowledge of their proceedings had reached the rest of thekingdom. In the metropolis itself little information could beobtained of the movements of the rebel army for several days afterthey had left Edinburgh. Light of foot, they outstripped thecavalry and artillery of the royal army, which were delayed at allpoints by impassable roads. No sooner, however, was the rebellionput down, than Government directed its attention to the best meansof securing the permanent subordination of the Highlands, and withthis object the construction of good highways was declared to beindispensable. The expediency of opening up the communicationbetween the capital and the principal towns of Scotland was alsogenerally admitted; and from that time, though slowly, theconstruction of the main high routes between north and south madesteady progress.

The extension of the turnpike system, however, encountered violentopposition from the people, being regarded as a grievous tax upontheir freedom of movement from place to place. Armed bodies of menassembled to destroy the turnpikes; and they burnt down thetoll-houses and blew up the posts with gunpowder. The resistancewas the greatest in Yorkshire, along the line of the Great NorthRoad towards Scotland, though riots also took place inSomersetshire and Gloucestershire, and even in the immediateneighbourhood of London. One fine May morning, at Selby, inYorkshire, the public bellman summoned the inhabitants to assemblewith their hatchets and axes that night at midnight, and cut downthe turnpikes erected by Act of Parliament; nor were they slow toact upon his summons. Soldiers were then sent into the district toprotect the toll-bars and the toll-takers; but this was a difficultmatter, for the toll-gates were numerous, and wherever a "pike" wasleft unprotected at night, it was found destroyed in the morning.The Yeadon and Otley mobs, near Leeds, were especially violent. Onthe 18th of June, 1753, they made quite a raid upon the turnpikes,burning or destroying about a dozen in one week. A score of therioters were apprehended, and while on their way to York Castle arescue was attempted, when the soldiers were under the necessity offiring, and many persons were killed and wounded. The prejudicesentertained against the turnpikes were so strong, that in someplaces the country people would not even use the improved roadsafter they were made.*[11] For instance, the driver of theMarlborough coach obstinately refused to use the New Bath road, butstuck to the old waggon-track, called "Ramsbury." He was an oldman, he said: his grandfather and father had driven the aforesaidway before him, and he would continue in the old track tilldeath.*[12] Petitions were also presented to Parliament againstthe extension of turnpikes; but the opposition represented by thepetitioners was of a much less honest character than that of themisguided and prejudiced country folks, who burnt down thetoll-houses. It was principally got up by the agriculturists in theneighbourhood of the metropolis, who, having secured the advantageswhich the turnpike-roads first constructed had conferred upon them,desired to retain a monopoly of the improved means ofcommunication. They alleged that if turnpike-roads were extendedinto the remoter counties, the greater cheapness of labour therewould enable the distant farmers to sell their grass and corncheaper in the London market than themselves, and that thus theywould be ruined.*[13]

This opposition, however, did not prevent the progress of turnpikeand highway legislation; and we find that, from l760 to l774, nofewer than four hundred and fifty-two Acts were passed for makingand repairing highways. Nevertheless the roads of the kingdom longcontinued in a very unsatisfactory state, chiefly arising from theextremely imperfect manner in which they were made.

Road-making as a profession was as yet unknown. Deviations weremade in the old roads to make them more easy and straight; but thedeep ruts were merely filled up with any materials that lay nearestat hand, and stones taken from the quarry, instead of being brokenand laid on carefully to a proper depth, were tumbled down androughly spread, the country road-maker trusting to the operation ofcart-wheels and waggons to crush them into a proper shape. Men ofeminence as engineers--and there were very few such at the time--considered road-making beneath their consideration; and it was eventhought singular that, in 1768, the distinguished Smeaton shouldhave condescended to make a road across the valley of the Trent,between Markham and Newark.

The making of the new roads was thus left to such persons as mightchoose to take up the trade, special skill not being thought at allnecessary on the part of a road-maker. It is only in this way thatwe can account for the remarkable fact, that the first extensivemaker of roads who pursued it as a business, was not an engineer,nor even a mechanic, but a Blind Man, bred to no trade, andpossessing no experience whatever in the arts of surveying orbridge-building, yet a man possessed of extraordinary naturalgifts, and unquestionably most successful as a road-maker.We allude to John Metcalf, commonly known as "Blind Jack ofKnaresborough," to whose biography, as the constructor of nearlytwo hundred miles of capital roads--as, indeed, the first greatEnglish road-maker--we propose to devote the next chapter.

Footnotes for Chapter V.

*[1] Lady Luxborough, in a letter to Shenstone the poet, in 1749,says,--"A Birmingham coach is newly established to our greatemolument. Would it not be a good scheme (this dirty weather, whenriding is no more a pleasure) for you to come some Monday in thesaid stage-coach from Birmingham to breakfast at Barrells,(for they always breakfast at Henley); and on the Saturday followingit would convey you back to Birmingham, unless you would stay longer,which would be better still, and equally easy; for the stage goesevery week the same road. It breakfasts at Henley, and lies atChipping Horton; goes early next day to Oxford, stays there all dayand night, and gets on the third day to London; which fromBirmingham at this season is pretty well, considering how long theyare at Oxford; and it is much more agreeable as to the country thanthe Warwick way was."

*[2] We may incidentally mention three other journeys south byfuture Lords Chancellors. Mansfield rode up from Scotland toLondon when a boy, taking two months to make the journey on his pony.Wedderburn's journey by coach from Edinburgh to London, in 1757,occupied him six days. "When I first reached London," saidthe late Lord Campbell, "I performed the same journey in threenights and two days, Mr. Palmer's mail-coaches being thenestablished; but this swift travelling was considered dangerous aswell as wonderful, and I was gravely advised to stay a day at York,as several passengers who had gone through without stopping haddied of apoplexy from the rapidity of the motion!"

*[5] 'Six Weeks Tour' in the Southern Counties of England andWales,' pp. 153-5. The roads all over South Wales were equallybad down to the beginning of the present century. At Halfway, nearTrecastle, in Breconshire, South Wales, a small obelisk is still tobe seen, which was erected to commemorate the turn over anddestruction of the mail coach over a steep of l30 feet; the driverand passengers escaping unhurt.

*[6] 'A Six Months' Tour through the North of England,' vol. iv.,p. 431.

*[7] Letter to Wyatt, October 5th, 1787, MS.

*[8] Act 15 Car. II., c. 1.

*[9] The preamble of the Act recites that "The ancient highway andpost-road leading from London to York, and so into Scotland, andlikewise from London into Lincolnshire, lieth for many miles in thecounties of Hertford, Cambridge, and Huntingdon, in many of whichplaces the road, by reason of the great and many loads which areweekly drawn in waggons through the said places, as well as byreason of the great trade of barley and malt that cometh to Ware,and so is conveyed by water to the city of London, as well as othercarriages, both from the north parts as also from the city ofNorwich, St. Edmondsbury, and the town of Cambridge, to London, isvery ruinous, and become almost impassable, insomuch that it isbecome very dangerous to all his Majesty's liege people that passthat way," &c.

*[10] Down to the year 1756, Newcastle and Carlisle were onlyconnected by a bridle way. In that year, Marshal Wade employed hisarmy to construct a road by way of Harlaw and Cholterford,following for thirty miles the line of the old Roman Wall, thematerials of which he used to construct his "agger" and culverts.This was long after known as "the military road."

*[11] The Blandford waggoner said, "Roads had but one object--forwaggon-driving. He required but four-foot width in a lane, and allthe rest might go to the devil." He added, "The gentry ought tostay at home, and be d----d, and not run gossiping up and down thecountry."--Roberts's 'Social History of the Southern Counties.'

*[12] 'Gentleman's Magazine' for December, 1752.

*[13] Adam Smith's 'Wealth of Nations,' book i., chap. xi., part i.

CHAPTER VI.

JOHN METCALF, ROAD-MAKER.

[Image] Metcalf's birthplace Knaresborough

John Metcalf was born at Knaresborough in 1717, the son of poorworking people. When only six years old he was seized withvirulent small-pox, which totally destroyed his sight. The blindboy, when sufficiently recovered to go abroad, first learnt togrope from door to door along the walls on either side of hisparents' dwelling. In about six months he was able to feel his wayto the end of the street and back without a guide, and in threeyears he could go on a message to any part of the town. He grewstrong and healthy, and longed to join in the sports of boys of hisage. He went bird-nesting with them, and climbed the trees whilethe boys below directed him to the nests, receiving his share ofeggs and young birds. Thus he shortly became an expert climber,and could mount with ease any tree that he was able to grasp.He rambled into the lanes and fields alone, and soon knew every footof the ground for miles round Knaresborough. He next learnt toride, delighting above all things in a gallop. He contrived tokeep a dog and coursed hares: indeed, the boy was the marvel of theneighbourhood. His unrestrainable activity, his acuteness of sense,his shrewdness, and his cleverness, astonished everybody.

The boy's confidence in himself was such, that though blind, he wasready to undertake almost any adventure. Among his other arts helearned to swim in the Nidd, and became so expert that on oneoccasion he saved the lives of three of his companions. Once, whentwo men were drowned in a deep part of the river, Metcalf was sentfor to dive for them, which he did, and brought up one of thebodies at the fourth diving: the other had been carried down thestream. He thus also saved a manufacturer's yarn, a large quantityof which had been carried by a sudden flood into a deep hole underthe High Bridge. At home, in the evenings, he learnt to play thefiddle, and became so skilled on the instrument, that he was shortlyable to earn money by playing dance music at country parties.At Christmas time he played waits, and during the Harrogate seasonhe played to the assemblies at the Queen's Head and the Green Dragon.

On one occasion, towards dusk, he acted as guide to a belatedgentleman along the difficult road from York to Harrogate.The road was then full of windings and turnings, and in many placesit was no better than a track across unenclosed moors. Metcalfbrought the gentleman safe to his inn, "The Granby," late at night,and was invited to join in a tankard of negus. On Metcalf leavingthe room, the gentleman observed to the landlord--"I think,landlord, my guide must have drunk a great deal of spirits since wecame here." "Why so, Sir?" "Well, I judge so, from the appearanceof his eyes." "Eyes! bless you, Sir," rejoined the landlord, "don'tyon know that he is blind?" "Blind! What do you mean by that?""I mean, Sir, that he cannot see--he is as blind as a stone."Well, landlord," said the gentleman, "this is really too much:call him in." Enter Metcalf. "My friend, are you really blind?""Yes, Sir," said he, "I lost my sight when six years old." "Had Iknown that, I would not have ventured with you on that road fromYork for a hundred pounds." "And I, Sir," said Metcalf, "would nothave lost my way for a thousand."

Metcalf having thriven and saved money, bought and rode a horse ofhis own. He had a great affection for the animal, and when hecalled, it would immediately answer him by neighing. The mostsurprising thing is that he was a good huntsman; and to follow thehounds was one of his greatest pleasures. He was as bold as arider as ever took the field. He trusted much, no doubt, to thesagacity of his horse; but he himself was apparently regardless ofdanger. The hunting adventures which are related of him,considering his blindness, seem altogether marvellous. He wouldalso run his horse for the petty prizes or plates given at the"feasts" in the neighbourhood, and he attended the races at Yorkand other places, where he made bets with considerable skill,keeping well in his memory the winning and losing horses.After the races, he would return to Knaresborough late at night,guiding others who but for him could never have made out the way.

On one occasion he rode his horse in a match in KnaresboroughForest. The ground was marked out by posts, including a circle ofa mile, and the race was three times round. Great odds were laidagainst the blind man, because of his supposed inability to keepthe course. But his ingenuity was never at fault. He procured anumber of dinner-bells from the Harrogate inns and set men to ringthem at the several posts. Their sound was enough to direct himduring the race, and the blind man came in the winner! After therace was over, a gentleman who owned a notorious runaway horse cameup and offered to lay a bet with Metcalf that he could not gallopthe horse fifty yards and stop it within two hundred. Metcalfaccepted the bet, with the condition that he might choose hisground. This was agreed to, but there was to be neither hedge norwall in the distance. Metcalf forthwith proceeded to theneighbourhood of the large bog near the Harrogate Old Spa, andhaving placed a person on the line in which he proposed to ride,who was to sing a song to guide him by its sound, he mounted androde straight into the bog, where he had the horse effectuallystopped within the stipulated two hundred yards, stuck up to hissaddle-girths in the mire. Metcalf scrambled out and claimed hiswager; but it was with the greatest difficulty that the horse couldbe extricated.

The blind man also played at bowls very successfully, receiving theodds of a bowl extra for the deficiency of each eye. He had thusthree bowls for the other's one; and he took care to place onefriend at the jack and another midway, who, keeping up a constantdiscourse with him, enabled him readily to judge of the distance.In athletic sports, such as wrestling and boxing, he was also agreat adept; and being now a full-grown man, of great strength androbustness, about six feet two in height, few durst try upon himthe practical jokes which cowardly persons are sometimes disposedto play upon the blind.

Notwithstanding his mischievous tricks and youthful wildness, theremust have been something exceedingly winning about the man,possessed, as he was, of a strong, manly, and affectionate nature;and we are not, therefore, surprised to learn that the land lord'sdaughter of "The Granby" fairly fell in love with Blind Jack andmarried him, much to the disgust of her relatives. When asked howit was that she could marry such a man, her woman-like reply was,"Because I could not be happy without him: his actions are sosingular, and his spirit so manly and enterprising, that I couldnot help loving him." But, after all, Dolly was not so far wrong inthe choice as her parents thought her. As the result proved,Metcalf had in him elements of success in life, which, even accordingto the world's estimate, made him eventually a very "good match,"and the woman's clear sight in this case stood her in good stead.

But before this marriage was consummated, Metcalf had wandered farand "seen" a good deal of the world, as he termed it. He travelledon horseback to Whitby, and from thence he sailed for London,taking with him his fiddle, by the aid of which he continued toearn enough to maintain himself for several weeks in themetropolis. Returning to Whitby, He sailed from thence toNewcastle to "see" some friends there, whom he had known atHarrogate while visiting that watering-place. He was welcomed bymany families and spent an agreeable month, afterwards visitingSunderland, still supporting himself by his violin playing.Then he returned to Whitby for his horse, and rode homeward alone toKnaresborough by Pickering, Malton, and York, over very bad roads,the greater part of which he had never travelled before, yetwithout once missing his way. When he arrived at York, it was thedead of night, and he found the city gates at Middlethorp shut.They were of strong planks, with iron spikes fixed on the top; butthrowing his horse's bridle-rein over one of the spikes, he climbedup, and by the help of a corner of the wall that joined the gates,he got safely over: then opening; them from the inside, he led hishorse through.

After another season at Harrogate, he made a second visit toLondon, in the company of a North countryman who played the smallpipes. He was kindly entertained by Colonel Liddell, of RavensworthCastle, who gave him a general invitation to his house. Duringthis visit which was in 1730-1, Metcalf ranged freely over themetropolis, visiting Maidenhead and Reading, and returning byWindsor and Hampton Court. The Harrogate season being at hand,he prepared to proceed thither,--Colonel Liddell, who was also aboutsetting out for Harrogate, offering him a seat behind his coach.Metcalf thanked him, but declined the offer, observing that hecould, with great ease, walk as, far in a day as he, the Colonel,was likely to travel in his carriage; besides, he preferred thewalking. That a blind man should undertake to walk a distance oftwo hundred miles over an unknown road, in the same time that ittook a gentleman to perform the same distance in his coach, draggedby post-horses, seems almost incredible; yet Metcalf actuallyarrived at Harrogate before the Colonel, and that without hurryingby the way. The circumstance is easily accounted for by thedeplorable state of the roads, which made travelling by foot on thewhole considerably more expeditious than travelling by coach.The story is even extant of a man with a wooden leg being once offereda lift upon a stage-coach; but he declined, with "Thank'ee, I can'twait; I'm in a hurry." And he stumped on, ahead of the coach.

The account of Metcalf's journey on foot from London to Harrogateis not without a special bearing on our subject, as illustrative ofthe state of the roads at the time. He started on a Mondaymorning, about an hour before the Colonel in his carriage, with hissuite, which consisted of sixteen servants on horseback. It wasarranged that they should sleep that night at Welwyn, inHertfordshire. Metcalf made his way to Barnet; but a little northof that town, where the road branches off to St. Albans, he tookthe wrong way, and thus made a considerable detour. Neverthelesshe arrived at Welwyn first, to the surprise of the Colonel. Nextmorning he set off as before, and reached Biggleswade; but there hefound the river swollen and no bridge provided to enable travellersto cross to the further side. He made a considerable circuit, inthe hope of finding some method of crossing the stream, and was sofortunate as to fall in with a fellow wayfarer, who led the wayacross some planks, Metcalf following the sound of his feet.Arrived at the other side, Metcalf, taking some pence from hispocket, said, "Here, my good fellow, take that and get a pint of beer."The stranger declined, saying he was welcome to his services.Metcalf, however, pressed upon his guide the small reward, when theother asked, "Pray, can you see very well?" "Not remarkably well,"said Metcalf. "My friend," said the stranger, "I do not mean totithe you: I am the rector of this parish; so God bless you,and I wish you a good journey. " Metcalf set forward again withthe blessing, and reached his journey's end safely, again before theColonel. On the Saturday after their setting out from London,the travellers reached Wetherby, where Colonel Liddell desired torest until the Monday; but Metcalf proceeded on to Harrogate, thuscompleting the journey in six days,--the Colonel arriving two dayslater.

He now renewed his musical performances at Harrogate, and was alsoin considerable request at the Ripon assemblies, which wereattended by most of the families of distinction in thatneighbourhood. When the season at Harrogate was over, he retiredto Knaresborough with his young wife, and having purchased an oldhouse, he had it pulled down and another built on its site,--hehimself getting the requisite stones for the masonry out of the bedof the adjoining river. The uncertainty of the income derived frommusical performances led him to think of following some moresettled pursuit, now that he had a wife to maintain as well ashimself. He accordingly set up a four-wheeled and a one-horsechaise for the public accommodation,--Harrogate up to that timebeing without any vehicle for hire. The innkeepers of the townhaving followed his example, and abstracted most of his business,Metcalf next took to fish-dealing. He bought fish at the coast,which he conveyed on horseback to Leeds and other towns for sale.He continued indefatigable at this trade for some time, being onthe road often for nights together; but he was at length forced toabandon it in consequence of the inadequacy of the returns. He wastherefore under the necessity of again taking up his violin; and hewas employed as a musician in the Long Room at Harrogate, at thetime of the outbreak of the Rebellion of 1745.

The news of the rout of the Royal army at Prestonpans, and theintended march of the Highlanders southwards, put a stop tobusiness as well as pleasure, and caused a general consternationthroughout the northern counties. The great bulk of the peoplewere, however, comparatively indifferent to the measures of defencewhich were adopted; and but for the energy displayed by the countrygentlemen in raising forces in support of the establishedgovernment, the Stuarts might again have been seated on the throneof Britain. Among the county gentlemen of York who distinguishedthemselves on the occasion was William Thornton, Esq., ofThornville Royal. The county having voted ninety thousand poundsfor raising, clothing, and maintaining a body of four thousand men,Mr. Thornton proposed, at a public meeting held at York, that theyshould be embodied with the regulars and march with the King'sforces to meet the Pretender in the field. This proposal was,however, overruled, the majority of the meeting resolving that themen should be retained at home for purposes merely of localdefence. On this decision being come to, Mr. Thornton determinedto raise a company of volunteers at his own expense, and to jointhe Royal army with such force as he could muster. He then wentabroad among his tenantry and servants, and endeavoured to inducethem to follow him, but without success.

Still determined on raising his company, Mr. Thornton next castabout him for other means; and who should he think of in hisemergency but Blind Jack! Metcalf had often played to his family atChristmas time, and the Squire knew him to be one of the mostpopular men in the neighbourhood. He accordingly proceeded toKnaresborough to confer with Metcalf on the subject. It was thenabout the beginning of October, only a fortnight after the battleof Prestonpans. Sending for Jack to his inn, Mr. Thornton toldhim of the state of affairs--that the French were coming to jointhe rebels--and that if the country were allowed to fall into theirhands, no man's wife, daughter, nor sister would be safe. Jack'sloyalty was at once kindled. If no one else would join the Squire,he would! Thus enlisted--perhaps carried away by his love ofadventure not less than by his feeling of patriotism Metcalfproceeded to enlist others, and in two days a hundred and forty menwere obtained, from whom Mr. Thornton drafted sixty-four, theintended number of his company. The men were immediately drilledand brought into a state of as much efficiency as was practicablein the time; and when they marched off to join General Wade's armyat Boroughbridge, the Captain said to them on setting out,"My lads! you are going to form part of a ring-fence to the finestestate in the world!" Blind Jack played a march at the head of thecompany, dressed in blue and buff, and in a gold-laced hat.The Captain said he would willingly give a hundred guineas for onlyone eye to put in Jack's head: he was such a useful, spirited, handyfellow.

On arriving at Newcastle, Captain Thornton's company was united toPulteney's regiment, one of the weakest. The army lay for a weekin tents on the Moor. Winter had set in, and the snow lay thickon the ground; but intelligence arriving that Prince Charles, withhis Highlanders, was proceeding southwards by way of Carlisle,General Wade gave orders for the immediate advance of the army onHexham, in the hope of intercepting them by that route. They setout on their march amidst hail and snow; and in addition to theobstruction caused by the weather, they had to overcome thedifficulties occasioned by the badness of the roads. The men wereoften three or four-hours in marching a mile, the pioneers havingto fill up ditches and clear away many obstructions in making apracticable passage for the artillery and baggage. The army wasonly able to reach Ovingham, a distance of little more than tenmiles, after fifteen hours' marching. The night was bitter cold;the ground was frozen so hard that but few of the tent-pins couldbe driven; and the men lay down upon the earth amongst their straw.Metcalf, to keep up the spirits of his company for sleep was nextto impossible --took out his fiddle and played lively tunes whilstthe men danced round the straw, which they set on fire.

Next day the army marched for Hexham; But the rebels having alreadypassed southward, General Wade retraced. his steps to Newcastle togain the high road leading to Yorkshire, whither he marched in allhaste; and for a time his army lay before Leeds on fields nowcovered with streets, some of which still bear the names ofWade-lane, Camp-road, and Camp-field, in consequence of the event.

On the retreat of Prince Charles from Derby, General Wade againproceeded to Newcastle, while the Duke of Cumberland hung upon therear of the rebels along their line of retreat by Penrith andCarlisle. Wade's army proceeded by forced marches into Scotland,and at length came up with the Highlanders at Falkirk. Metcalfcontinued with Captain Thornton and his company throughout allthese marchings and countermarchings, determined to be of serviceto his master if he could, and at all events to see the end of thecampaign. At the battle of Falkirk he played his company to thefield; but it was a grossly-mismanaged battle on the part of theRoyalist General, and the result was a total defeat. Twenty ofThornton's men were made prisoners, with the lieutenant andensign. The Captain himself only escaped by taking refuge in apoor woman's house in the town of Falkirk, where he lay hidden formany days; Metcalf returning to Edinburgh with the rest of thedefeated army.

Some of the Dragoon officers, hearing of Jack's escape, sent forhim to head-quarters at Holyrood, to question him about hisCaptain. One of them took occasion to speak ironically ofThornton's men, and asked Metcalf how he had contrived to escape."Oh!" said Jack, "I found it easy to follow the sound of theDragoons' horses-- they made such a clatter over the stones whenflying from the Highlandmen. Another asked him how he, a blindman, durst venture upon such a service; to which Metcalf replied,that had he possessed a pair of good eyes, perhaps he would nothave come there to risk the loss of them by gunpowder. No morequestions were asked, and Jack withdrew; but he was not satisfiedabout the disappearance of Captain Thornton, and determined ongoing back to Falkirk, within the enemy's lines, to get news ofhim, and perhaps to rescue him, if that were still possible.

The rest of the company were very much disheartened at the loss oftheir officers and so many of their comrades, and wished Metcalf tofurnish them with the means of returning home. But he would nothear of such a thing, and strongly encouraged them to remain until,at all events, he had got news of the Captain. He then set out forPrince Charles's camp. On reaching the outposts of the Englisharmy, he was urged by the officer in command to lay aside hisproject, which would certainly cost him his life. But Metcalf wasnot to be dissuaded, and he was permitted to proceed, which he didin the company of one of the rebel spies, pretending that he wishedto be engaged as a musician in the Prince's army. A woman whomthey met returning to Edinburgh from the field of Falkirk, ladenwith plunder, gave Metcalf a token to her husband, who was LordGeorge Murray's cook, and this secured him an access to thePrince's quarters; but, notwithstanding a most diligent search,he could hear nothing of his master. Unfortunately for him, a personwho had seen him at Harrogate, pointed him out as a suspicionscharacter, and he was seized and put in confinement for three days,after which he was tried by court martial; but as nothing could bealleged against him, he was acquitted, and shortly after made hisescape from the rebel camp. On reaching Edinburgh, very much to hisdelight he found Captain Thornton had arrived there before him.

On the 30th of January, 1746, the Duke of Cumberland reachedEdinburgh, and put himself at the head of the Royal army, whichproceeded northward in pursuit of the Highlanders. At Aberdeen,where the Duke gave a ball, Metcalf was found to be the onlymusician in camp who could play country dances, and he played tothe company, standing on a chair, for eight hours,--the Dukeseveral times, as he passed him, shouting out "Thornton, play up!"Next morning the Duke sent him a present of two guineas; but as theCaptain would not allow him to receive such gifts while in his pay,Metcalf spent the money, with his permission, in giving a treat tothe Duke's two body servants. The battle of Culloden, sodisastrous to the poor Highlanders; shortly followed; after whichCaptain Thornton, Metcalf, and the Yorkshire Volunteer Company,proceeded homewards. Metcalf's young wife had been in great fearsfor the safety of her blind, fearless, and almost reckless partner;but she received him with open arms, and his spirit of adventurebeing now considerably allayed, he determined to settle quietlydown to the steady pursuit of business.

During his stay in Aberdeen, Metcalf had made himself familiar withthe articles of clothing manufactured at that place, and he came tothe conclusion that a profitable trade might be carried on bybuying them on the spot, and selling them by retail to customers inYorkshire. He accordingly proceeded to Aberdeen in the followingspring; and bought a considerable stock of cotton and worstedstockings, which he found he could readily dispose of on his returnhome. His knowledge of horseflesh--in which he was, of course,mainly guided by his acute sense of feeling--also proved highlyserviceable to him, and he bought considerable numbers of horses inYorkshire for sale in Scotland, bringing back galloways in return.It is supposed that at the same time he carried on a profitablecontraband trade in tea and such like articles.

After this, Metcalf began a new line of business, that of commoncarrier between York and Knaresborough, plying the firststage-waggon on that road. He made the journey twice a week insummer and once a week in winter. He also undertook the conveyanceof army baggage, most other owners of carts at that time beingafraid of soldiers, regarding them as a wild rough set, with whomit was dangerous to have any dealings. But the blind man knew thembetter, and while he drove a profitable trade in carrying theirbaggage from town to town, they never did him any harm. By thesemeans, he very shortly succeeded in realising a considerable storeof savings, besides being able to maintain his family inrespectability and comfort.

Metcalf, however, had not yet entered upon the main business of hislife. The reader will already have observed how strong of heartand resolute of purpose he was. During his adventurous career hehad acquired a more than ordinary share of experience of theworld. Stone blind as he was from his childhood, he had not beenable to study books, but he had carefully studied men. He couldread characters with wonderful quickness, rapidly taking stock, ashe called it, of those with whom he came in contact. In his youth,as we have seen, he could follow the hounds on horse or on foot,and managed to be in at the death with the most expert riders.His travels about the country as a guide to those who could see,as a musician, soldier, chapman, fish-dealer, horse-dealer,and waggoner, had given him a perfectly familiar acquaintance withthe northern roads. He could measure timber or hay in the stack,and rapidly reduce their contents to feet and inches after a mentalprocess of his own. Withal he was endowed with an extraordinaryactivity and spirit of enterprise, which, had his sight been sparedhim, would probably have rendered him one of the most extraordinarymen of his age. As it was, Metcalf now became one of the greatestof its road-makers and bridge-builders.

[Image] John Metcalf, the blind road-maker.

About the year 1765 an Act was passed empowering a turnpike-road tobe constructed between Harrogate and Boroughbridge. The businessof contractor had not yet come into existence, nor was the art ofroad-making much understood; and in a remote country place such asKnaresborough the surveyor had some difficulty in finding personscapable of executing the necessary work. The shrewd Metcalfdiscerned in the proposed enterprise the first of a series ofpublic roads of a similar kind throughout the northern counties,for none knew better than he did how great was the need of them.He determined, therefore, to enter upon this new line of business,and offered to Mr. Ostler, the master surveyor, to construct threemiles of the proposed road between Minskip and Fearnsby. Ostlerknew the man well, and having the greatest confidence in hisabilities, he let him the contract. Metcalf sold his stage-waggonsand his interest in the carrying business between York andKnaresborough, and at once proceeded with his new undertaking.The materials for metaling the road were to be obtained from onegravel-pit for the whole length, and he made his arrangements on alarge scale accordingly, hauling out the ballast with unusualexpedition and economy, at the same time proceeding with theformation of the road at all points; by which means he was enabledthe first to complete his contract, to the entire satisfaction ofthe surveyor and trustees.

This was only the first of a vast number of similar projects onwhich Metcalf was afterwards engaged, extending over a period ofmore than thirty years. By the time that he had finished the road,the building of a bridge at Boroughbridge was advertised, andMetcalf sent in his tender with many others. At the same time hefrankly stated that, though he wished to undertake the work, he hadnot before executed anything of the kind. His tender being on thewhole the most favourable, the trustees sent for Metcalf, and onhis appearing before them, they asked him what he knew of a bridge.He replied that he could readily describe his plan of the one theyproposed to build, if they would be good enough to write down hisfigures. The span of the arch, 18 feet," said he, "being asemicircle, makes 27: the arch-stones must be a foot deep, which,if multiplied by 27, will be 486; and the basis will be 72 feetmore. This for the arch; but it will require good backing, forwhich purpose there are proper stones in the old Roman wall atAldborough, which may be used for the purpose, if you please togive directions to that effect." It is doubtful whether thetrustees were able to follow his rapid calculations; but they wereso much struck by his readiness and apparently complete knowledgeof the work he proposed to execute, that they gave him the contractto build the bridge; and he completed it within the stipulated timein a satisfactory and workmanlike manner.

He next agreed to make the mile and a half of turnpike-road betweenhis native town of Knaresborough and Harrogate--ground with whichhe was more than ordinarily familiar. Walking one day over aportion of the ground on which the road was to be made, while stillcovered with grass, he told the workmen that he thought it differedfrom the ground adjoining it, and he directed them to try for stoneor gravel underneath; and, strange to say, not many feet down, themen came upon the stones of an old Roman causeway, from which heobtained much valuable material for the making of his new road.At another part of the contract there was a bog to be crossed, andthe surveyor thought it impossible to make a road over it. Metcalfassured him that he could readily accomplish it; on which the otheroffered, if he succeeded, to pay him for the straight road theprice which he would have to pay if the road were constructed roundthe bog. Metcalf set to work accordingly, and had a large quantityof furze and ling laid upon the bog, over which he spread layers ofgravel. The plan answered effectually, and when the materials hadbecome consolidated, it proved one of the best parts of the road.

It would be tedious to describe in detail the construction of thevarious roads and bridges which Metcalf subsequently executed, buta brief summary of the more important will suffice. In Yorkshire,he made the roads between Harrogate and Harewood Bridge; betweenChapeltown and Leeds; between Broughton and Addingham; between MillBridge and Halifax; between Wakefield and Dewsbury; betweenWakefield and Doncaster; between Wakefield, Huddersfield, andSaddleworth (the Manchester road); between Standish and ThurstonClough; between Huddersfield and Highmoor; between Huddersfield andHalifax, and between Knaresborough and Wetherby.

In Lancashire also, Metcalf made a large extent of roads, whichwere of the greatest importance in opening up the resources of thatcounty. Previous to their construction, almost the only means ofcommunication between districts was by horse-tracks and mill-roads,of sufficient width to enable a laden horse to pass along them witha pack of goods or a sack of corn slung across its back. Metcalf'sprincipal roads in Lancashire were those constructed by him betweenBury and Blackburn, with a branch to Accrington; between Bury andHaslingden; and between Haslingden and Accrington, with a branch toBlackburn. He also made some highly important main roadsconnecting Yorkshire and Lancashire with each other at many parts:as, for instance, those between Skipton, Colne, and Burnley; andbetween Docklane Head and Ashton-under-Lyne. The roads from Ashtonto Stockport and from Stockport to Mottram Langdale were also hiswork.

Our road-maker was also extensively employed in the same way in thecounties of Cheshire and Derby; constructing the roads betweenMacclesfield and Chapel-le-Frith, between Whaley and Buxton,between Congleton and the Red Bull (entering Staffordshire), and invarious other directions. The total mileage of the turnpike-roadsthus constructed was about one hundred and eighty miles, for whichMetcalf received in all about sixty-five thousand pounds.The making of these roads also involved the building of many bridges,retaining-walls, and culverts. We believe it was generallyadmitted of the works constructed by Metcalf that they well stoodthe test of time and use; and, with a degree of justifiable pride,he was afterwards accustomed to point to his bridges, when otherswere tumbling during floods, and boast that none of his had fallen.

This extraordinary man not only made the highways which weredesigned for him by other surveyors, but himself personallysurveyed and laid out many of the most important roads which heconstructed, in difficult and mountainous parts of Yorkshire andLancashire. One who personally knew Metcalf thus wrote of himduring his life-time:. "With the assistance only of a long staff,I have several times met this man traversing the roads, ascendingsteep and rugged heights, exploring valleys and investigating theirseveral extents, forms, and situations, so as to answer his designsin the best manner. The plans which he makes, and the estimates heprepares, are done in a method peculiar to himself, and of which hecannot well convey the meaning to others. His abilities in thisrespect are, nevertheless, so great that he finds constantemployment. Most of the roads over the Peak in Derbyshire havebeen altered by his directions, particularly those in the vicinityof Buxton; and he is at this time constructing a new one betwixtWilmslow and Congleton, to open a communication with the greatLondon road, without being obliged to pass over the mountains.I have met this blind projector while engaged in making his survey.He was alone as usual, and, amongst other conversation, I made someinquiries respecting this new road. It was really astonishing tohear with what accuracy he described its course and the nature ofthe different soils through which it was conducted. Havingmentioned to him a boggy piece of ground it passed through, heobserved that 'that was the only place he had doubts concerning,and that he was apprehensive they had, contrary to his directions,been too sparing of their materials.'"*[1]

Metcalf's skill in constructing his roads over boggy ground wasvery great; and the following may be cited as an instance. Whenthe high-road from Huddersfield to Manchester was determined on,he agreed to make it at so much a rood, though at that time theline had not been marked out. When this was done, Metcalf, to hisdismay, found that the surveyor had laid it out across some deepmarshy ground on Pule and Standish Commons. On this heexpostulated with the trustees, alleging the much greater expensethat he must necessarily incur in carrying out the work after theirsurveyor's plan. They told him, however, that if he succeeded inmaking a complete road to their satisfaction, he should not be aloser; but they pointed out that, according to their surveyor'sviews, it would be requisite for him to dig out the bog until hecame to a solid bottom. Metcalf, on making his calculations, foundthat in that case he would have to dig a trench some nine feet deepand fourteen yards broad on the average, making about two hundredand ninety-four solid yards of bog in every rood, to be excavatedand carried away. This, he naturally conceived, would have provedboth tedious as well as costly, and, after all, the road would inwet weather have been no better than a broad ditch, and in winterliable to be blocked up with snow. He strongly represented thisview to the trustees as well as the surveyor, but they wereimmovable. It was, therefore, necessary for him to surmount thedifficulty in some other way, though he remained firm in hisresolution not to adopt the plan proposed by the surveyor.After much cogitation he appeared again before the trustees,and made this proposal to them: that he should make the roadacross the marshes after his own plan, and then, if it should befound not to answer, he would be at the expense of making it overagain after the surveyor's proposed method. This was agreed to;and as he had undertaken to make nine miles of the road within tenmonths, he immediately set to work with all despatch.

Nearly four hundred men were employed upon the work at sixdifferent points, and their first operation was to cut a deep ditchalong either side of the intended road, and throw the excavatedstuff inwards so as to raise it to a circular form. His greatestdifficulty was in getting the stones laid to make the drains, therebeing no firm footing for a horse in the more boggy places.The Yorkshire clothiers, who passed that way to Huddersfield market--by no means a soft-spoken race--ridiculed Metcalf's proceedings,and declared that he and his men would some day have to be draggedout of the bog by the hair of their heads! Undeterred, however,by sarcasm, he persistently pursued his plan of making the roadpracticable for laden vehicles; but he strictly enjoined his menfor the present to keep his manner of proceeding; a secret.

His plan was this. He ordered heather and ling to be pulled fromthe adjacent ground, and after binding it together in little roundbundles, which could be grasped with the hand, these bundles wereplaced close together in rows in the direction of the line of road,after which other similar bundles were placed transversely overthem; and when all had been pressed well down, stone and gravelwere led on in broad-wheeled waggons, and spread over the bundles,so as to make a firm and level way. When the first load wasbrought and laid on, and the horses reached the firm ground againin safety, loud cheers were set up by the persons who had assembledin the expectation of seeing both horses and waggons disappear inthe bog. The whole length was finished in like manner, and itproved one of the best, and even the driest, parts of the road,standing in very little need of repair for nearly twelve yearsafter its construction. The plan adopted by Metcalf, we needscarcely point out, was precisely similar to that afterwardsadopted by George Stephenson, under like circumstances, whenconstructing the railway across Chat Moss. It consisted simply in alarge extension of the bearing surface, by which, in fact, the roadwas made to float upon the surface of the bog; and the ingenuity ofthe expedient proved the practical shrewdness and mother-wit of theblind Metcalf, as it afterwards illustrated the promptitude as wellas skill of the clear-sighted George Stephenson.

Metcalf was upwards of seventy years old before he left offroad-making. He was still hale and hearty, wonderfully active forso old a man, and always full of enterprise. Occupation wasabsolutely necessary for his comfort, and even to the last day ofhis life he could not bear to be idle. While engaged on road-makingin Cheshire, he brought his wife to Stockport for a time,and there she died, after thirty-nine years of happy married life.One of Metcalf's daughters became married to a person engaged inthe cotton business at Stockport, and, as that trade was then verybrisk, Metcalf himself commenced it in a small way. He began withsix spinning-jennies and a carding-engine, to which he afterwardsadded looms for weaving calicoes, jeans, and velveteens. But tradewas fickle, and finding that he could not sell his yarns except ata loss, he made over his jennies to his son-in-law, and again wenton with his road-making. The last line which he constructed wasone of the most difficult he had everundertaken,-- that betweenHaslingden and Accrington, with a branch road to Bury. Numerouscanals being under construction at the same time, employment wasabundant and wages rose, so that though he honourably fulfilled hiscontract, and was paid for it the sum of 3500L., he found himself aloser of exactly 40L. after two years' labour and anxiety.He completed the road in 1792, when he was seventy-five years of age,after which he retired to his farm at Spofforth, near Wetherby,where for some years longer he continued to do a little business inhis old line, buying and selling hay and standing wood, andsuperintending the operations of his little farm, During the lateryears of his career he occupied himself in dictating to anamanuensis an account of the incidents in his remarkable life,and finally, in the year 1810, this strong-hearted and resolute man--his life's work over--laid down his staff and peacefully departedin the ninety-third year of his age; leaving behind him fourchildren, twenty grand-children, and ninety great grand-children.

[Image] Metcalf's house at Spofforth.

The roads constructed by Metcalf and others had the effect ofgreatly improving the communications of Yorkshire and Lancashire,and opening up those counties to the trade then flowing into themfrom all directions. But the administration of the highways andturnpikes being entirely local, their good or bad managementdepending upon the public spirit and enterprise of the gentlemen ofthe locality, it frequently happened that while the roads of onecounty were exceedingly good, those of the adjoining county werealtogether execrable.

Even in the immediate vicinity of the metropolis the Surrey roadsremained comparatively unimproved. Those through the interior ofKent were wretched. When Mr. Rennie, the engineer, was engaged insurveying the Weald with a view to the cutting of a canal throughit in 1802, he found the country almost destitute of practicableroads, though so near to the metropolis on the one hand and to thesea-coast on the other. The interior of the county was thencomparatively untraversed, except by bands of smugglers, who keptthe inhabitants in a state of constant terror. In an agriculturalreport on the county of Northampton as late as the year 1813, itwas stated that the only way of getting along some of the mainlines of road in rainy weather, was by swimming!

In the neighbourhood of the city of Lincoln the communications werelittle better, and there still stands upon what is called LincolnHeath--though a heath no longer--a curious memorial of the past inthe shape of Dunstan Pillar, a column seventy feet high, erectedabout the middle of last century in the midst of the then dreary,barren waste, for the purpose of serving as a mark to wayfarers byday and a beacon to them by night.*[2]

[Image] Land Lighthouse on Lincoln Heath.

At that time the Heath was not only uncultivated, but it was alsounprovided with a road across it. When the late Lady RobertManners visited Lincoln from her residence at Bloxholm, she wasaccustomed to send forward a groom to examine some track, that onhis return he might be able to report one that was practicable.Travellers frequently lost themselves upon this heath. Thus afamily, returning from a ball at Lincoln, strayed from the tracktwice in one night, and they were obliged to remain there untilmorning. All this is now changed, and Lincoln Heath has becomecovered with excellent roads and thriving farmsteads."This Dunstan Pillar," says Mr. Pusey, in his review of theagriculture of Lincolnshire, in 1843, "lighted up no longer timeago for so singular a purpose, did appear to me a striking witnessof the spirit of industry which, in our own days, has reared thethriving homesteads around it, and spread a mantle of teemingvegetation to its very base. And it was certainly surprising todiscover at once the finest farming I had ever seen and the onlyland lighthouse ever raised.*[3] Now that the pillar has ceased tocheer the wayfarer, it may serve as a beacon to encourage otherlandowners in converting their dreary moors into similar scenes ofthriving industry."*[4] When the improvement of the high roads ofthe country fairly set in, the progress made was very rapid.This was greatly stimulated by the important inventions of tools,machines, and engines, made towards the close of last century,the products of which--more especially of the steam-engine andspinning-machine--so largely increased the wealth of the nation.Manufactures, commerce, and shipping, made unprecedented strides;life became more active; persons and commodities circulated morerapidly; every improvement in the internal communications beingfollowed by an increase of ease, rapidity, and economy inlocomotion. Turnpike and post roads were speedily extended allover the country, and even the rugged mountain districts of NorthWales and the Scotch Highlands became as accessible as any Englishcounty. The riding postman was superseded by the smartly appointedmail-coach, performing its journeys with remarkable regularity atthe average speed of ten miles an hour. Slow stagecoaches gaveplace to fast ones, splendidly horsed and "tooled," untiltravelling by road in England was pronounced almost perfect.

But all this was not enough. The roads and canals, numerous andperfect though they might be, were found altogether inadequate tothe accommodation of the traffic of the country, which hadincreased, at a constantly accelerating ratio, with the increasedapplication of steam power to the purposes of productive industry.At length steam itself was applied to remedy the inconvenienceswhich it had caused; the locomotive engine was invented, andtravelling by railway became generally adopted. The effect ofthese several improvements in the means of locomotion, has been togreatly increase the public activity, and to promote the generalcomfort and well-being. They have tended to bring the country andthe town much closer together; and, by annihilating distance asmeasured by time, to make the whole kingdom as one great city.What the personal blessings of improved communication have been, noone has described so well as the witty and sensible Sydney Smith:--

"It is of some importance," he wrote, "at what period a man is born. A young man alive at this period hardly knows to what improvement of human life he has been introduced; and I would bring before his notice the changes which have taken place in England since I began to breathe the breath of life, a period amounting to over eighty years. Gas was unknown; I groped about the streets of London in the all but utter darkness of a twinkling oil lamp, under the protection of watchmen in their grand climacteric, and exposed to every species of degradation and insult. I have been nine hours in sailing from Dover to Calais, before the invention of steam. It took me nine hours to go from Taunton to Bath, before the invention of railroads; and I now go in six hours from Taunton to London! In going from Taunton to Bath, I suffered between l0,000 and 12,000 severe contusions, before stone-breaking Macadam was born.... As the basket of stage-coaches in which luggage was then carried had no springs, your clothes were rubbed all to pieces; and, even in the best society, one-third of the gentlemen at least were always drunk..... I paid 15L. in a single year for repairs of carriage-springs on the pavement of London; and I now glide without noise or fracture on wooden pavement. I can walk, by the assistance of the police, from one end of London to the other without molestation; or, if tired, get into a cheap and active cab, instead of those cottages on wheels which the hackney coaches were at the beginning of my life..... Whatever miseries I suffered, there was no post to whisk my complaints for a single penny to the remotest comer of the empire; and yet, in spite of all these privations, I lived on quietly, and am now ashamed that I was not more discontented, and utterly surprised that all these changes and inventions did not occur two centuries ago.

With the history of these great improvements is also mixed up thestory of human labour and genius, and of the patience andperseverance displayed in carrying them out. Probably one of thebest illustrations of character in connection with the developmentof the inventions of the last century, is to be found in the lifeof Thomas Telford, the greatest and most scientific road-maker ofhis day, to which we proceed to direct the attention of the reader.

Footnotes for Chapter VI.

*[1] 'Observations on Blindness and on the Employment of the otherSenses to supply the Loss of Sight.' By Mr. Bew.--'Memoirs of theLiterary and Philosophical Society of Manchester,'vol.i., pp. 172-174. Paper read 17th April, 1782.

*[2] The pillar was erected by Squire Dashwood in 1751; the lanternon its summit was regularly lighted till 1788, and occasionally till1808,, when it was thrown down and never replaced. The Earl ofBuckingham afterwards mounted a statue of George III. on the top.

*[3] Since the appearance of the first edition of this book, acorrespondent has informed us that there is another lighthousewithin 24 miles of London, not unlike that on Lincoln Heath. It issituated a little to the south-east of the Woking station of theSouth-western Railway, and is popularly known as "Woking Monument."It stands on the verge of Woking Heath, which is a continuation ofthe vast tract of heath land which extends in one direction as faras Bagshot. The tradition among the inhabitants is, that one of thekings of England was wont to hunt in the neighbourhood, when a firewas lighted up in the beacon to guide him in case he should bebelated; but the probability is, that it was erected like that onLincoln Heath, for the guidance of ordinary wayfarers at night.

*[4] 'Journal of the Agricultural Society of England, 1843.'

LIFE OF THOMAS TELFORD.

CHAPTER I. ESKDALE.

[Image] Valley of "the Unblameable Shepherd", Eskdale

Thomas Telford was born in one of the most Solitary nooks of thenarrow valley of the Esk, in the eastern part of the county ofDumfries, in Scotland. Eskdale runs north and south, its lower endhaving been in former times the western march of the Scottishborder. Near the entrance to the dale is a tall column erected onLangholm Hill, some twelve miles to the north of the Gretna Greenstation of the Caledonian Railway,--which many travellers to andfrom Scotland may have observed,--a monument to the late Sir JohnMalcolm, Governor of Bombay, one of the distinguished natives ofthe district. It looks far over the English border-lands, whichstretch away towards the south, and marks the entrance to themountainous parts of the dale, which lie to the north. From thatpoint upwards the valley gradually contracts, the road windingalong the river's banks, in some places high above the stream,which rushes swiftly over the rocky bed below.

A few miles upward from the lower end of Eskdale lies the littlecapital of the district, the town of Langholm; and there, in themarket-place, stands another monument to the virtues of the Malcolmfamily in the statue erected to the memory of Admiral Sir PulteneyMalcolm, a distinguished naval officer. Above Langholm, the countrybecomes more hilly and moorland. In many places only a narrow stripof land by the river's side is left available for cultivation;until at length the dale contracts so much that the hills descendto the very road, and there are only to be seen their steepheathery sides sloping up towards the sky on either hand, and anarrow stream plashing and winding along the bottom of the valleyamong the rocks at their feet.

[Image] Telford's Native District

From this brief description of the character of Eskdale scenery,it may readily be supposed that the district is very thinly peopled,and that it never could have been capable of supporting a largenumber of inhabitants. Indeed, previous to the union of the crownsof England and Scotland, the principal branch of industry thatexisted in the Dale was of a lawless kind. The people living on thetwo sides of the border looked upon each other's cattle as theirown, provided only they had the strength to "lift" them. They were,in truth, even during the time of peace, a kind of outcasts,against whom the united powers of England and Scotland were oftenemployed. On the Scotch side of the Esk were the Johnstones andArmstrongs, and on the English the Graemes of Netherby; both clansbeing alike wild and lawless. It was a popular border saying that"Elliots and Armstrongs ride thieves a';" and an old historian saysof the Graemes that "they were all stark moss-troopers and arrantthieves; to England as well as Scotland outlawed." The neighbouringchiefs were no better: Scott of Buccleugh, from whom the modernDuke is descended, and Scott of Harden, the ancestor of thenovelist, being both renowned freebooters.

There stands at this day on the banks of the Esk, only a few milesfrom the English border, the ruin of an old fortalice, calledGilnockie Tower, in a situation which in point of natural beauty isscarcely equalled even in Scotland. It was the stronghold of achief popularly known in his day as Johnnie Armstrong.*[1] He was amighty freebooter in the time of James V., and the terror of hisname is said to have extended as far as Newcastle-upon-Tyne,between which town and his castle on the Esk he was accustomed tolevy black-mail, or "protection and forbearance money," as it wascalled. The King, however, determining to put down by the stronghand the depredations of the march men, made a sudden expeditionalong the borders; and Johnnie Armstrong having been so ill-advisedas to make his appearance with his followers at a place calledCarlenrig, in Etterick Forest, between Hawick and Langholm, Jamesordered him to instant execution. Had Johnnie Armstrong, like theScotts and Kers and Johnstones of like calling, been imprisonedbeforehand, he might possibly have lived to found a Britishpeerage; but as it was, the genius of the Armstrong dynasty was fora time extinguished, only, however, to reappear, after the lapseof a few centuries, in the person of the eminent engineer ofNewcastle-upon-Tyne, the inventor of the Armstrong gun.

The two centuries and a half which have elapsed since then haveindeed seen extraordinary changes.*[2] The energy which the oldborderers threw into their feuds has not become extinct, butsurvives under more benignant aspects, exhibiting itself in effortsto enlighten, fertilize, and enrich the country which theirwasteful ardour before did so much to disturb and impoverish.The heads of the Buccleugh and Elliot family now sit in the BritishHouse of Lords. The descendant of Scott of Harden has achieved aworld-wide reputation as a poet and novelist; and the late SirJames Graham, the representative of the Graemes of Netherby, on theEnglish side of the border, was one of the most venerable andrespected of British statesmen. The border men, who used to makesuch furious raids and forays, have now come to regard each other,across the imaginary line which divides them, as friends andneighbours; and they meet as competitors for victory only atagricultural meetings, where they strive to win prizes for thebiggest turnips or the most effective reaping-machines; while themen who followed their Johnstone or Armstrong chiefs as prickers orhobilers to the fray have, like Telford, crossed the border withpowers of road-making and bridge-building which have proved asource of increased civilization and well-being to the populationof the entire United Kingdom.

The hamlet of Westerkirk, with its parish church and school,lies in a narrow part of the valley, a few miles above Langholm.Westerkirk parish is long and narrow, its boundaries being thehill-tops on either side of the dale. It is about seven miles longand two broad, with a population of about 600 persons of all ages.Yet this number is quite as much as the district is able tosupport, as is proved by its remaining as nearly as possiblestationary from one generation to another.*[3] But what becomes ofthe natural increase of families? "They swarm off!" was theexplanation given to us by a native of the valley. "If theyremained at home," said he, "we should all be sunk in poverty,scrambling with each other amongst these hills for a bare living.But our peasantry have a spirit above that: they will not consentto sink; they look up; and our parish schools give them a power of